Sunday
by Celeistic
Summary: We go through the week and think "Oh, how I wish it was Saturday already." but sometimes Saturday doesn't always exceed your expectations. Sometimes, Saturday is disappointing. But then, there's Sunday.


_**Hello there! So, as I mentioned in a chapter of one of my more popular stories. My laptop has shut down. I no longer have much to write on except for my dad's laptop (which is what I'm currently on). But! I have bought a new computer and it should arrive soon! Which means more writing! But until then, here's a short story for you to enjoy.~  
**_

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This is the story of the seven girls I've dated.

Hi, I'm Ethan. Ethan Morgan. I'm seventeen years old, a junior at Whitechapel High School, and that's kind of all my description is. Sure, I'm a brother, a son, a best friend, oh, and a supernatural entity. Yet, none of those things really further the story so including them in the description was pointless.

Anyway, so, now you know me.  
That means we can get to the story:

We'll start with the first one,  
her name? He name was Violet and I dated her in the eighth grade for five months. Yeah, bet you didn't think I could keep a girl that long, but I can. I'm a good boyfriend.

Anyway, if anything her name should've been Violent, because she was like a Monday. She was sudden, she was blunt and abrupt. She was fast paced and it was hard to keep up with her.

Her hair was dark and smooth. She had dark brown eyes that grabbed your soul and twisted it to fit her preference. She liked to wear tank tops and shorts. She liked to wear graphic t-shirts and dark skinny jeans.

Violet was a whirlwind, she was an adventure, but in the end she was dangerous.  
She was like a Monday.  
Unpredictable.

Then, there was Tuesday.  
Tuesday's name was Abigail and I dated her in ninth grade, but only for a month.

Unfortunately, there wasn't much to her. She was simply a cookie cutter. A plain Jane. I honestly don't remember why I went with her.

She was Tuesday, because she wasn't memorable. She was like the rest.

Not only was her name common, but so were her features. She had long, light brown hair. Bright blue eyes. Pale skin. She liked to wear nice, dressy shirts and blue skinny jeans. She liked to paint her nails and she liked to do her make-up.

There was nothing interesting about her. She wasn't an adventure like Monday, and she almost made you miss Monday. She was just there though. She was just someone to have and to hold on Friday nights in. She was someone to take out on a date to a nice little restaurant. She was just another girlfriend.

Abigail was simple.  
She was like a Tuesday.  
Just another day.

Then, there was Wednesday.  
Wednesday's name was Erica, that's right. Blonde-haired, hazel-eyed, vampire princess Erica Jones. I dated her the summer of freshmen year. I kept her for all that time actually.

Despite Erica's seemingly bitter personal, she was more than that. She was different, but her type of different didn't click quite well with mine.

She was more than just a morning's bitter, black coffee. She could be sweet. She could be deep, sometimes she could say phrases that sounded like poetry. She was more than just her Dusk fantasies. She was the girl you bought flowers for and watched as she smiled at the bouquet of roses. She would end up putting them on her nightstand by her bed in a nice, black vase.

She was the one that took you places. She sneaked out with you at two o'clock in the morning and you two sat in the park on the swings. She was the one who drove you two hours outside of the city to see a lake while the sun was setting.

But you pretended to like things because of her. You pretended to be more interesting than you knew you actually were. You pretended to like all of her indie bands and you pretended to like the color black a lot more than you actually did. You pretended you didn't mind how you could taste blood in her mouth when you kissed her.

Erica was new, she was different, and she was exciting.  
She was like a Wednesday.  
Relieving.

Then there was Thursday.

Thursday's name was Lily. I dated her during sophomore year, but only for two months.

She was sweet, she was calm, and she was beautiful. Except, you weren't looking for calm and you weren't looking for reserved.

She felt like a filler.

You knew there was something better at the end of the tunnel, but you really couldn't see it quite yet so you stuck with her.

Lily was a conventional kind of beautiful. She was of Vietnamese heritage so she had the long, dark brown hair that fell a little bit past her shoulders. She had the small, dark brown eyes but they glittered with life. They invited you in. They made you feel welcome. She was very thin and very short. She liked to wear all kinds of things. Her wardrobe was a mixture of darks and brights, pastels and neons.

She was that person you went to when you just wanted to lay on someone's floor and stare at the ceiling. And she would talk, she would talk about nonsense, but it was only meant to be background noise. She didn't mind being the background. She was that person you slow danced with in the bedroom with no music playing. She made you little origami stars and birds. She wrote notes when she was bored in class and she drew you pictures.

It was all very cute, and you looked back on the relationship and found it peaceful. But still, you knew there was something better out there. And you wanted to find it.

Lily was calming, relaxing.  
She was like a Thursday.  
Predictable.

That's when Friday came along.  
Friday's name Rebecca and I dated her for a month during sophomore year.

Rebecca was definitely like a Friday night, and honestly, I wasn't prepared for this kind of Friday night.

She was a wild one.

Rebecca was pretty. She had long, golden brown hair that fell down to her mid-back. Bright hazel eyes that were helped to see by black framed glasses. Her skin was permanently, naturally tanned. Oh, she also had a nose piercing. Rebecca didn't care how she looked. Some days, she would just come to school in an old t-shirt and jeans. Other times she would try and look nice, but not too nice.

Rebecca was like the less punk-rock version of Erica.

She sat in your car while you two were driving around and when a song came on that she liked she'd turn up the radio and she'd sing along loudly. She didn't like nights in, she always wanted to go out. She always wanted to be somewhere. Whether it was the park, walking around the city, or ten miles outside of Whitechapel. She just liked to go.

She also liked to bring you to her friends' parties, but you didn't like her friends. Her friends liked to drink and smoke. And one can only be offered weed so many times before you internally explode.

When you got out of the tunnel after dating Thursday, you did not except the light to be so bright for sure.

Rebecca was crazy.  
She was like a Friday.  
Drunk.

By this point, you're exhausted.  
You're ready for your Saturday.

Saturday's name was Sarah Fox, the girl I had been chasing forever. I dated her the rest of sophomore year.

You were excited to finally be dating Sarah. You had thought about it a long time, and now your time was finally here.

Except, it wasn't all you had cracked it up to be.

You thought it was going to be nice. Filled with fun. You thought you two were going to be together for a long while. You thought you were going to be that couple that people go around saying "#goals" about.

You thought it was going to be perfect.

Everyone thinks Saturday is going to be this amazing event, because you've gone through this entire week and you've finally reached the weekend. You get to hang out now and you get to do your kind of fun.

But no one's Saturday ever really acts out like they plan do they?

You looked back on that relationship and saw disappointment.

It was a cookie cutter relationship. It was like dating Abigail all over again, except Sarah luckily had a little more depth to her. She wanted to watch all of your favorite films and she wanted you to show her your favorite song. She listened to you talk about comic books and nerd things. She was a good girlfriend, but there was nothing else there. If the conversation wasn't about how much you two liked each other, then it wasn't about anything. You two did the normal couple stuff: movies, dinner, mall, movies, dinner, mall, etc. Stay in, go out, stay in, go out, etc. It was nothing exciting. At least while Erica dragged you around, it was interesting, and at least while Rebecca took you to parties it occupied your time.

But Sarah was normal.  
She was like Saturday.  
Disappointing.

But just when you thought all hope was lost and you were never going to find that imperfectly perfect relationship…

You found Sunday.

Sunday's name was Emily. I began to date her the summer before junior year.  
And Emily was beautiful, even though to a lot of people they would say she was average. But her beauty to you was unlike anyone's.

Emily had beautiful, long light pink hair. Pretty, small, hazel eyes that shimmered in the sun. Pale skin tone and a clear complexion on her face. She was very little. She stood at 5'4 and weighed no more than between 90 to 100 pounds. Not that she suffered from any eating disorders, she just didn't eat a whole lot, but it was still a good amount. If someone was just to look at her, judge her purely on her outside appearance, they would find her dark. As she liked to wear dark clothing a bunch. She also liked to keep herself covered. She would wear dresses, but usually with a cardigan and tights. She would wear jeans and long sleeved shirts, or her favorite outfit: one of my sweatshirts and her ripped-at-the-knees black jeans.

Emily liked to steal my clothes,  
but that was okay.  
They looked better on her anyway.

Despite how dark she seemed, with all her clothes being only the darkest of colors and her music having the deepest of lyrics. She was actually the most angelic person you had ever met. There was never a day that she was not kind to you. Never a day that went by when she didn't do something nice for you.

She cared so much about you.  
Her first concern was always you. It was always "how are you?" "how was your day?" etc. She honestly took care of you sometimes more than she took care of herself, but luckily you were around to take care of her when she forgot to. Like that one Friday night during the second month the two of you had been dating. That Friday night was the worst one in a while. Your parents were fighting again. The school day had been filled with tormentors. Your grades were slipping and an existential crisis was settling. She had texted you, but you had never replied and that's when you found her outside your window. Of course you let her in. There weren't many words spoken that night, but really there wasn't a need for words. She just laid there with you in bed, you had your face pressed against her shoulder and you cried. This was the first time she had seen you cry and at first you thought she would have been disgusted, because everyone knows boys aren't supposed to have emotions. Yet, she just held you. She held you until you fell asleep and had sadly fled before the morning light, but she had left a note that said she would be back soon. She came back that afternoon.

She was an adventure too.  
Her adventures were quiet ones though. Her adventures were hiking up the tallest hill in the city and looking down upon it at night. She found beauty in the way the lights shined, but you found beauty in the way the lights shined in her eyes. Her adventures were quiet autumn afternoon walks. Her adventures were showing you what was beyond the south side of town. Which was a field of flowers, beautiful purple flowers. And you remember how she looked, picking and tying a bunch of the flowers to create a flower crown that she gave to you.

She loved to shower you in affection.  
Sometimes, when you were let out of class she would come back to you with a note and hand it to you. She would tell you she was bored in class. In that was sometimes the prettiest words you had ever heard of. Sometimes it was just a page full of doodles. She ended up giving you so many you had to find a box to keep them all, because you didn't want to lose there was that time on your six month anniversary, she wrote you a love letter and brought you a bunch of flowers she had picked from the flower field on the south side of town.

She was protective.  
If she dared caught anyone pushing you or mutter an insulting word, immediately she would be there. Barking and calling out the person for what they had done. If that didn't scare them enough, she would give a low hiss of a threat and her hazel eyes would fill with fire. They knew then that it was time to back off. Soon enough, people just stopped trying to mess with you.

Emily was relieving to be around. You could be yourself around her and she was herself around you. She would listen to you talk and you would listen to her. There was no need for trying with her. She enjoyed doing anything with you, even if it wasn't particularly the first plan. You enjoyed doing anything with her too, because you were with her. She was a literal angel and sometimes you laid awake in bed in the early morning hours wondering if she was even real. Or if she was just some beautiful dream.

We're all just racing to get to Saturday, but really sometimes Saturday just wasn't enough.  
But then there was Sunday.

And by God, she was more than enough.

She was caring, she was relaxing, and she was everything you needed.

Emily was normal but she wasn't a boring normal. She was an interesting kind of normal.  
She was a Sunday.  
She was the one you had always been waiting for.


End file.
